Nightmare
by RedcurrantSmoothie
Summary: How had it come to this? A year ago, Sam was renowned for being School Bus Sam- the hero that saved everyone's life. Now? Now, he was a murderer, or at least an attempted one. But in terms of his value as a person, was there really a difference?


Nightmare

Ever since the FAYZ began, ever since that that very History lesson where his teacher mysteriously disappeared in front of his own eyes, Sam Temple (along with everyone else he knew) had longed for escape. Now? Now, he wasn't so sure if he belonged in the outside world. In the FAYZ, however, he knew he fit in. The sad thing was, he knew the reason for that wasn't because the people inside were his age, or that he got along with everyone. No: he fit in because he was a murderer.  
How ironic. The same Sam Temple that saved a whole bus full of children was a murderer, or at least an attempted murderer. A seemingly endless list of names echoed through his brain in an endless chant-like crescendo.  
E.Z. Petey. Penny. Hunter. Duck. Howard. Bette. Gaia. Zil. Lance. Antoine. Hank. Harry. Orsay. Taylor. Cigar. Francis. Mary.  
For all of those people he had either caused their death, planned their death or failed to stop their death.  
If it wasn't for him, those people might still be alive.  
He knew what Astrid would say if she were here, she'd tell him that they certainly weren't his fault, and then probably add in some condescending remark at the end, probably using some long complex terms to make him feel like a fool. But Astrid wasn't here. Astrid was off in the woods somewhere, nowhere to be seen or heard from. He didn't even know if she was alive. Just thinking of her felt like his heart had twisted itself in a knot, never to be untangled. Did she still love him? Probably not. After all, he'd killed her brother, or planned to, which is the same thing really. Either way, he'd wanted him dead.  
But he still loved her. Despite everything, every argument they'd had, every time they'd lied to each other, everything that had happened since the start of the nightmare began, he still loved her. How could he not? She was his first love, and those feelings don't go away overnight.  
Burying his face in his pillow, he tried to shut all those feelings out and ignore the world. Think of happier times, he thought to himself. But all of his happier times involved Astrid, which brought more emotional turmoil. He didn't even want to think of memories involving his mother, even though they were never that close. Even reminiscing memories of Quinn was painful, as they weren't best friends any more. He didn't know who held that title any more. Edilio, probably. Or Dekka. Or Astrid, but he didn't want to think that.  
Quinn. Another failed relationship. Maybe if he'd forgave him, stuck around with him more instead of practically cutting him out, maybe they'd still be best friends. Quinn didn't even follow him to the lake. Sure, it was because of his newfound love of fishing, but still, it had reopened those old wounds. He wondered how Quinn was doing. Probably better than he was. He was probably laughing with his fishing crew, his new family, not lying in bed reliving all his worst memories and longing for escape.  
If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that there was no escaping this nightmare world. His fifteenth birthday was long gone, and he'd no idea if the poof would happen again on his sixteenth. If it did, would he have succumbed to the temptation, would he escape? He didn't even know any more. A few months before hand would have been a different story; no way would he leave when people needed him. In his mind, he'd like to think that saving people was no longer his job, at least not solely his, but deep down he knew that when the time came, all eyes and responsibility would be on him. And when he failed to save everyone, their deaths would be on his conscience. More names to add to his list.  
In the back of Sam's mind, a troubled thought lingered. There was another way to escape everything, permanently. He could be out of the FAYZ, with all his troubles gone and bad thoughts banished forever. He eyed the knife on his beside table; could he actually do it? It was simple really: just a quick slash and then it'd be over. No more Drake. No more FAYZ. No more guilt. No more nothing.  
His eyes darted back and forth, towards the knife and away. Biting his lip, he tried to control himself.  
If he killed himself, who would protect everyone? He couldn't imagine Caine defending the town against Drake, no matter how hard he'd fought against the bugs a while back.  
If he killed himself, who would people look up to in times of need?  
If he killed himself, he'd never see Astrid again.  
And just that thought alone made the whole thing a million times easier. Allowing himself a slight smile, he shoved the knife into a drawer and tried to forget all about it. "Not today," he whispered, and shut his eyes, ready to face whatever horrors his mind would throw at him tonight.


End file.
